


Unwanted Miracles

by Improvement



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gentleness, Husbands, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kittens, Love, M/M, Miracles, Romance, Sick Character, unexpected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 15:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Improvement/pseuds/Improvement
Summary: Aziraphale becomes inexplicably sick. This causes him to perform miracles involuntarily with just a thought. Crowley must figure out why this is happening and put a stop to it before things get out of hand. Good Omens and it's characters belong to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, this is purely fanfiction.





	Unwanted Miracles

Crowley was having a hard time understanding what exactly he was seeing in front of him. One minute, he watering his plants, making sure they behave properly, those bastards, the next, he ends up in Aziraphale's bedroom looking on at the sad sight that was in front of him. "Why have you called me here Aziraphale? I was quite busy you know," he said, hiding the water sprayer behind him. 

"Crowley, I didn't call you," Aziraphale responded, coughing at the end.

The two avoided eye contact and allowed for an uncomfortable silence to fall over them. A week ago, they had gotten into an argument, which was bound to happen from time to time when you know someone for 6,000 years. They knew they both would get over it eventually, but for now, they weren't really on speaking terms. This fight of theirs had started off from Crowley calling one of Aziraphale's favorite books "lame". This didn't go over well, leaving them in this predicament. 

"So, you're telling me that I teleported here on my own?" Crowley asked with an accusing tone. 

"Maybe you've come to apologize," Aziraphale retorted back, feeling good about the line. 

Crowley scoffed at the thought of it. Sure, Aziraphale might be the only angel in the world who Crowley would not mind apologizing to, but he certainly wasn't here for that, and he certainly didn't come here on his own accord. "As if angel," Crowley said, looking at the disappointed face Aziraphale made towards him. "You look terrible," Crowley added. 

The angel looked extremely sick, something that was uncommon for celestial beings. His cheeks were flushed over with a light pink and he seemed to have a case of the sniffles. He was lying in bed instead of being at his bookshop, which was also uncommon for Aziraphale. "I'm fine Crowley, so if you wouldn't mind leaving, I would like to get back to-" Before Aziraphale could finish, another round of cough hit him. Crowley made a disgusted face, not being particularly good with dealing with sickness. 

"Yeah, you sound very 'fine' angel," Crowley said. He walked over to Aziraphale and put his hand on the other's forehead, which was hot to the touch. Clearly a sign of fever. Not good. "You're burning up," Crowley said, not really sure what to do. 

"I-I do suppose I am a bit feverish," Aziraphale conceded. He knew as soon as he said this that Crowley would not leave his side until Aziraphale was better. Even when they were fighting, the demon never left Aziraphale hanging. The angel was thankful to have a friend like him, even if right now he had to pretend to be angry at the other.

Aziraphale hated being sick like this, especially on such a cold day. He wished nothing more than to have a warm cup of hot cocoa in his hand to make him feel better. With that thought, he felt a sneeze coming on, so he moved his head into his elbow and let it out. 

"What the hell?" Aziraphale heard Crowley say. He looked up and saw what the demon was seeing. 

"Oh, my," Aziraphale said back. In front of the two of them was a large hot cocoa machine equipped with pearly white cups ready to be filled with the chocolaty liquid. "It seems that my miracles are being a little overactive today," Aziraphale said. When Crowley gave him a confused look, he explained further. "I was thinking of how I really wanted some hot cocoa, and well, here it is!" the angel said, his voice now a little bit perkier. 

At first, Crowley didn't think much of it. He never really had to deal with a sick angel, so maybe this was just a side effect of something. But then he thought back to Aziraphale's words and felt his heart start to race. He started putting two and two together. If Aziraphale really wanted some hot chocolate and then the machine appeared, that could only mean that Aziraphale really wanted Crowley to be with him, which is why he was here. Crowley had to physically shake his head to erase that thought from his mind. Seriously, this angel would be the discorporation of him. 

Crowly walked over to the machine and poured a hot cup of the sweet beverage for Aziraphale. He gave the drink to the angel who said a quick "thank you," with a voice that was now starting to grow hoarse. This was not good. It seemed that Aziraphale was getting more sick instead of getting better. 

"Anything else you'd like, angel?" Crowley asked. Aziraphale shook his head no while taking a big drink his hot chocolate. "Fine, then why don't you make a 'drink' too?" Crowley said with a smirk on his face. Before Aziraphale could even think of the words 'no', a case of alcoholic beverage came up in front of them. "Sweet!" Crowley said, already opening up one of his drinks. 

Aziraphale sighed. "God's not going to be happy about that one."

"Oh cheer up angel, God doesn't really care about what you do," Crowley said, trying to be reassuring. It didn't help Aziraphale much though. He was one of those people who believed in doing the right thing, even when no one is watching or when everyone tries to convince you that you are wrong. Giving alcohol to Crowley was certainly not the right thing. The demon believed he could handle his liquor, and maybe he could more than a human. But for a celestial, Crowley had a surprisingly low tolerance and now Aziraphale would have to take care of that on top of being sick. 

It shocked Aziraphale when Crowley put the drink down after a couple of sips. "I'll save that for later. Right now, we have to come up with a way to fix you, angel," he said. Aziraphale started to feel his heart beating at a weird pace. He couldn't tell if it was because of the other man in the room or because of his own sickness. "So what do people do when angels get sick?" Crowley asked, walking around the bedroom. He hadn't been invited to this room very often, and so he walked around taking everything in. Of course, the angel had a themed bedroom of white and gold. Of course, he had books scattered everywhere. Crowley couldn't imagine a more Aziraphale type of place to be. It even smelled like the angel.

"Well, traditionally, when people get sick, people usually make them chicken noodle soup," Aziraphale said with a sly smile. 

"Make it appear then, angel. Use your angel magic," Crowley said. He waited for a second and heard a poof behind him. He turned and noticed that a stove had appeared with a box labeled soup next to it. "You bastard," he said. But it didn't stop Crowley from walking over and picking up the soup to read the instructions. As he started to turn on the stove he felt something appear on his body. It was a pink apron littered with images of little kittens. Crowley turned around to see Aziraphale hiding a laugh. "You're lucky you're sick you know?" he said, but he didn't make a move to take off the apron. 

Aziraphale marveled at the way Crowley worked. By watching him, it was clear that the demon had limited experience with cooking. He would get frustrated with every step and would look curiously at his own concoction every 30 seconds. But he continued on nonetheless, tasting and trying to perfect the soup. Aziraphale was touched that someone would go through such lengths for him.

When the soup was done, it didn't smell great. It had an odd orange tinge to it and the vegetables in the soup were all cut into weird shapes. The noodles themselves looked fine though. Crowley didn't seem to mind. He did the best he could. He put a little spoon in the soup and walked over to his sick friend. Aziraphale had half a heart to grab the bowl from Crowley, but he refrained when he saw the demon getting the spoon and blowing at it to make it cooler. "It might not be perfect," Crowley said before bringing the spoon closer to Aziraphale's mouth. Aziraphale tried to hide the grimace on his face from tasting the too salty broth and the larger than expected carrots. 

"This is perfect," Aziraphale said. He watched the demon trying to hide a smile, which only made his heart flutter more. 

"Enjoy it while you can angel. If the demons back in hell find out about this, you might not see me for a while," Crowley said. This concerned Aziraphale more than Crowley thought it would. When he saw the worried look on Aziraphale's face, Crowley added on to his original sentiment. "Don't worry though angel, they can never keep me too far away from you. If they try to, we'll just teleport to Alpha Centauri together." Crowley liked the idea of just living with Aziraphale somewhere away from all this heaven/hell, demon/angel things, but he knew Aziraphale had grown to like this society, so he would have to grow to like it too. 

Aziraphale felt a smile tug on his cheeks. No angel had ever given him the type of love Crowley so generously offered up, but he supposed Crowley was an angel once too. Before he could linger on that thought for a while, he felt another sneeze coming on. 

"Meow," Aziraphale heard in the distance. He saw Crowley's eyes get wide and it was only seconds before the demon was curled up in a corner, the bowl of soon long forgotten on Aziraphale's lap.

"Really Aziraphlae, you bring those monsters in here?" Crowley said. Aziraphale had seen some interesting confrontations between Crowley and cats. It was one of the biggest rivalries to exist since the dawn of time. 

"It's only a kitten, Crowley. It won't hurt you," Aziraphale said, holding the small ball of fluff in his hand. He moved the bowl of soup to his bedside table to make room for the newcomer. 

"Yeah, say it's only a kitten when it bites and scratches you," Crowley said, still in his corner. He looked to see Aziraphale playing with the little thing. Disgusting. But he couldn't look away. 

"Come now, trying playing with her," Aziraphale said. Before Crowley could object, he found himself on the angel's bed with a kitten in his lap. Damn miracles. "See, she's not hurting you," Aziraphale said. 

Crowley's body tensed up for a while, but he soon began to relax. He allowed the kitten to walk around him, not interacting with it too much save for a few pats here and there. The kitten was being gentle for now. Maybe it was because they were in the presence of an angel. Crowly knew that feeling way too well. He watched the angel continue playing. Aziraphale started to look a lot better than he originally had. His cheeks were starting to lighten up and his fever seemed to be going down. The playing stopped as soon as he heard a yawn escape the angel's lips. 

"Tired already Aziraphale?" Crowley asked. Aziraphale nodded a simple 'yes', letting another yawn escape in the meanwhile. "Okay," Crowley said, taking the kitten out of Aziraphale's hand and placing them gently on the ground. He looked around and saw that the stove and cocoa machine had already disappeared. Maybe all the miracles were wearing off. He looked at the angel, not wanting to leave his side just yet. 

"Could you read to me?" Aziraphale asked, knowing Crowley wasn't an all the time book nerd. The demon looked at him with a 'really' look, but got up none the less. He looked around the room and saw a book that intrigued his interest. It was the book that had started the fight in the first place. It seemed like a good one to choose now. 

When Aziraphale saw what book Crowley had chosen, he couldn't help but hide his face in his sheets. Why must Crowley make him feel this way?

Crowley walked over to Aziraphale's bed and noticed the new blanket that had just appeared. He got in and gathered close to Aziraphale, feeling the other's body heat. He started to read. Crowley didn't even get through one chapter before he heard the other snoring next to him softly. He laughed and shut the book. "Weak," he said jokingly. This was a running gag between the two about Aziraphale's sleeping habits. If the other was awake right now, he would say: 'healthy habits don't make you weak Crowley' with a fake annoyed look and his arms crossed over his chest. Just the thought of it made Crowly feel whole. 

The demon didn't want to leave, but he also didn't want to be a bother, so he got up. He looked over at the angel and did something without thinking. He leaned over and laid a kiss on Aziraphale's forehead, feeling the heat touch his lips. "Goodnight," he whispered to the silent room. He turned to get off the bed but found himself unable to. It almost felt like a barrier was preventing him from getting off. 'Damn miracle' Crowley thought again. He looked back at the sleeping form and let out a sign before curling up next to him. He soon felt an arm reach onto him into a cuddle. Crowley didn't do anything to move away from the embrace. He closed his eyes and allowed a few seconds to pass when he heard something he wasn't expecting. 

"Goodnight Crowley." 


End file.
